


take me to the places that i love best

by amorremanet



Series: Right Where I Belong [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Chubby Adam (Voltron), Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Gay Disaster Shiro (Voltron), Idiots in Love, Keith's chapter will have some angst b/c of James trapping him in a closet, M/M, N Things, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Otherwise though? This is gonna be tooth-rottingly sweet, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Semi-Public Sex, Shiro (Voltron) Has Multiple Sclerosis, Switching, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-07 01:19:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15897999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorremanet/pseuds/amorremanet
Summary: Sometimes, when two young, Galaxy Garrison superstars love each other very much, certain things start to seem like trivial details or guidelines, more than actual rules.For example, the notion that the only place where you can have sex is in either your dormitory or your boyfriend’s. Honestly, whoever came up with that sounds boring, and silly, and tedious. Please excuse Adam and Shiro while they resoundingly ignore that advice, despite the mounting threat of consequences.Or: “Seven times when Adam and Shiro really should’ve been more careful.”





	take me to the places that i love best

**Author's Note:**

  * For [genovianprince](https://archiveofourown.org/users/genovianprince/gifts).



> I honestly have nothing to say for myself about this. It is ridiculous, self-indulgent, and these boys are _idiots_ of the highest caliber. There are so many ludicrously questionable life choices going on here, it almost isn’t funny.
> 
> Except to me, because I’m just kind of like that.
> 
> Also, the title has been shamelessly ripped off from George Michael’s song, “Outside.” Granted, not every smut scene in this fic is going to happen outside (in fact, most of them _don’t_ )…… But the general idea of, “Fucking around in places where you maybe should be more careful” still applies.
> 
> Also also: Alex/genovianprince gave me a good reason to publish the chapters of this as I go, so additional tags will be added as they come. The listed characters have not all appeared yet, as of the first chapter, but they will do, by the end.
> 
> Finally, although Adam is going to get chubby throughout the fic, it’s not really going to be a major focus. It’s a thing that happens, and that Shiro is loving, supportive, and generally not a jerk about. But it’s not really kinky for them. In-character, it’s more like, “Yep, this is part of what’s going on for them right now. Look at these dorks.”

A day full of classes, dinner with Ryou (who’s on spring break from CalTech and in town for a visit anyway), getting kissed by someone cute, wall-to-wall jokes that amuse absolutely no one, about how Shiro is really only a quarter of his age because ha ha, he’s a Leap Year baby… All up, turning twenty hasn’t been too different from turning nineteen, save for three exceptions.

First of all, 2108 has a twenty-ninth of February for the Shirogane twins to celebrate. It’s a Wednesday, sunny and clear and temperate, though on the way back from Plaht City, Shiro zips up his hoodie and cocoons himself in the rainbow scarf Aunt Naoko crocheted him as a Christmas gift, a few years back. This is so typical, really. Shiro gets nice weather all day, but come sunset, the temperature plummets, clouds roll in, and the weather reports threaten that this part of Arizona might end up with a snowstorm overnight.

As he and Adam skulk through the ink-dark night, returning to the Garrison’s base, Shiro wishes that he’d worn actual gloves, instead of the black, fingerless numbers that he wears while blowing off steam in his hover-bike. The breeze nips at his cheeks and the backs of his hands with a bite like one of his family’s ill-tempered cats (specifically, like Ginger, who despises Shiro for no reason).

Could be worse, though. He’s been in a remission period since November (since shortly before Adam shoved Shiro up against a wall and gave him their first kiss together). More immediately and far more importantly, Adam grabs hold of his right hand as soon as he catches Shiro rubbing his fingers together and blowing on them to keep them warm.

Second, in addition to being at the Garrison and not visiting his old high school during a break, Shiro taught a good half of the classes that he endured today. Well, technically speaking, “tutored” or, “led” might be the more accurate terms. Officially, he and Adam are still in-training; they’ve got their advanced coursework, stalling for time until they can make Lieutenant. So, Shiro remains Uncle Mitch’s teaching assistant (and sometimes doubts whether or not his godfather will ever accept a different one), while Adam covers classes for Commander Holt and Professor Montgomery.

Finally, there’s Adam, who changes everything by virtue of being Shiro’s boyfriend. As they pass by the Ahn Building, Adam turns to face Shiro. Draping his arms around Shiro’s shoulders, he chuckles and nudges Shiro down. He noses at Shiro’s cheek, exhales on his skin, and whispers about how hard it was to resist doing this over dinner but he didn’t want to be rude, make Ryou feel like a third wheel on his own birthday, or whatever.

Before Shiro can ask what his boyfriend’s on about, Adam kisses him for the twenty-seventh time today. He goes in hard, jamming their mouths together, nibbling at Shiro’s lips and sucking on tongue as though Adam’s starving, even after everything he’s eaten today. As he embraces Adam’s waist, Shiro leans down and kisses back. Pulls their bodies flush against each other and can’t help noticing the way Adam’s swollen stomach bears down on his abs. While Adam gives up a contented sigh, Shiro tries not to think about giving Adam a container of lemon bars before their early morning classes, earning a roll of the eyes, and hearing Adam grouse like, _“It’s_ ** _your_** _birthday, Takashi… Why are you making treats and feeding other people on_ ** _your_** _birthday?”_

Exactly one lemon bar was left when they met up for lunch. As Shiro sat down opposite him in the mess hall, Adam had one finger in his mouth. His cheeks flushed candy apple red while he guiltily glanced up and down their table — but Adam couldn’t hide the truth. Powdered sugar glared at Shiro, stark white against his boyfriend’s soft, brown hands. A telltale sign that Adam likely hadn’t shared his treats with anybody else.

Shiro shouldn’t think about that right now, though, because it makes his spin more than the way Adam drinks him in, trying to steal the air clean out of Shiro’s lungs. Only a whine gets Adam to let up for a moment. Only the trembling in Shiro’s knees makes him pull back enough that Shiro can catch a breath. Just so Adam won’t get any ideas about Shiro disliking this, he lets one hand drift lower. Ghosts the touch down Adam’s back and cups his fingers around Adam’s backside — which definitely fills out his jeans more than it did at Christmas, for all Shiro knows better than to say so. No matter that he appreciates how much thicker Adam’s ass has gotten lately, saying it aloud might too easily sound like Shiro’s criticizing. Or worse, like he’s disgusted.

As if he can tell that his boyfriend might be thinking too much, Adam nuzzles at Shiro’s neck. Slipping his fingers underneath Shiro’s scarf, tracing gentle circles around the spot where his neck meets his spine, Adam lips at Shiro’s mouth without fully kissing him. Pulling back, Shiro spots a glint of… _something_? Possibly something mischievous? Trying to sneak a better look at Adam’s expression, all Shiro gets is the Garrison’s bright lights glaring off of Adam’s glasses like a protective flash. Like maybe Adam doesn’t want Shiro catching a better view of his gorgeous, honey-colored eyes.

He catches Adam’s smirk, though. His lips twist up and his whole face glimmers, lighting up the night and setting off fireworks in Shiro’s chest. He brushes a hand up Adam’s back, caresses his cheek instead. Licks his teeth. Starts to say, _“Adam, I lo—”_

With a dull _thud!_ , Shiro’s back hits the Ahn Building’s wall. He barely gets a moment to breathe, much less prepare himself for Adam’s mouth slamming into his again, full-throttle. Adam kisses furiously, desperately, like they’re running out of time and this is the last thing he wants before they die. Slithering all over Shiro’s front, he kneads his stomach on Shiro’s muscles. Knocks his thighs against Shiro’s thighs. Keeps one hand splayed out on the back of Shiro’s neck, as if telling him that he’s completely safe, but Adam would very much appreciate it if his Takashi wouldn’t try to wriggle away, not unless he’s genuinely uncomfortable.

Why Shiro would be uncomfortable with getting kissed like he’s important — that’s beyond him. In case Adam needs some confirmation, though, Shiro gives his plush, round ass a squeeze. Not too hard, since Adam might want something different, but firm enough that he will feel it.

Groaning into Shiro’s mouth, Adam ruts against his hips. Grinds like he means to pin Shiro to the wall. At the mere thought of Adam pinning him down to anything, Shiro’s heart clatters around his chest as if it’s drunk. Warmth floods over him in waves, each time Adam’s lips chafe against his own, every time Adam edges away only to rush back in with a vengeance, like he can’t stand the idea of having any room for breath between their bodies.

God, the way that Adam moves — the purposeful jerking of his hips, mixed with the long, slow drags on Shiro’s front — it goes to Shiro’s head like the kicker in a Screwdriver or two. The way he kisses like their lives depend on it — that makes Shiro’s knees wobble like a jello mold, makes him whine as his hips twitch under Adam’s and his dick gets hard.

Words escape him. So does coherency. One of Adam’s hands slithers out from behind Shiro’s neck. Teases down his chest. Light and soft and quick, that touch refuses to let Shiro properly appreciate it. Adam might as well be handling a fragile, irreplaceable work of art — until he grabs at Shiro’s crotch. Palms at him so intently, it’s almost like Shiro’s jeans have disappeared. Like Adam already has his fingers curled around Shiro’s shaft.

Heat shocks through Shiro as Adam strokes him. Hits his insides like a bolt of lightning. Nearly drowns out the chill that gnaws at Shiro’s skin as a new breeze rushes over them. When he shivers, he can’t tell if it’s from the cold or from the greedy way that Adam paws at Shiro’s fly. Whichever the cause is, Shiro can’t choke down the whimper building in his throat. Not entirely. Adam must be able to tell, because he presses harder on Shiro’s cock with a chuckle like he’s drawling, _“Oh, Pretty Boy. It’s cute when you try so hard to restrain yourself.”_

Whether that’s what Adam intends or not, Shiro can’t help smiling. A breathless laugh trips out of him as Adam bucks against his hips, as Adam’s stomach bumps against him. Lately, there’s softness to Adam’s frame that Shiro doesn’t have, plus the distended curve around his middle, evidence of how much Adam ate at dinner. Full as a tick, firmer and rounder than the rest of his body, that swell scrunches up on Shiro’s trim waist, likely only giving way because Adam’s willing to put in enough effort. Because, apparently, he’s hell-bent on tucking himself in between Shiro’s legs and huddling as close to Shiro as he can.

Maybe too intent: knocking up on Shiro another time, Adam stops. Right in the middle of grinding his tummy on Shiro’s abs and his hips on Shiro’s hips. He buries his face in the curve of Shiro’s neck, but doesn’t muffle the soft belch that bubbles out of him. A fond pinch of his luscious backside makes Adam huff and suck on Shiro’s pulse-point.

“God, that was romantic,” he deadpans, lips so close to Shiro’s skin that _not_ feeling them makes Shiro tremble.

Still, he keeps his hand cupped around Adam’s ass, just because it’s there and very much in need of groping. “You’re cute, though? Anyway…” Getting his mouth around the words makes his head hurt. Kissing Adam’s forehead — much easier. But he insists, “‘s nice, having a boyfriend with a healthy appetite. Means you appreciate it when I cook for you.”

“Yeah, right.” An affectionate snicker. “You just like feeding me those lemon bars.”

“‘s not my fault you like them so much.”

“It’s not _my_ fault you make them taste so good.” Nuzzling at him, Adam says, “You’re gonna spoil me rotten if you aren’t careful.”

“Nuh uh.” This protest earns Shiro a nibble on the neck. Tilting his head back so Adam has a better angle, Shiro gropes that ass with no intent of letting go. “‘m just taking care of you like you deserve.”

He whines as Adam bites down harder on his skin. Writhing, he bucks up into Adam’s hips. Allows himself to gasp, despite the fact that someone else could hear him. Despite the nagging feeling like they should really go back to their barracks before things go too far. No, there’s nobody else around right now. Sure, it’s dark here, in Ahn Building’s shadow. Uncle Mitch had to sign off for them to be out this late, and his written permission might not cover it if they don’t get back before curfew, especially if they get caught all enmeshed like this, breathing each other’s breaths while their cocks ache for satisfaction.

Pushing thoughts of getting found like this to the back of his mind, Shiro whispers, “‘m I _wrong_ to like making my boyfriend happy?”

Adam’s huff is fond, contented, but ultimately noncommittal. Leaning further into Shiro, he kisses Shiro’s throat with vampiric intensity. Dimly, Shiro hopes that Adam leaves behind even half of the hickeys he’s threatening to give. As if they have all the time in the world and he doesn’t care if anybody finds them, Adam angles his hips ever so delicately, presses harder on Shiro but eases into him like honey oozing off a spoon, and… _Oh._

While he hums faux-innocently, Adam’s erection nudges up on Shiro’ owns. Simply knowing that it’s there — just knowing that Adam _wants_ him so badly — makes Shiro’s heartbeat stutter and his breath hitch in his throat. It doesn’t unstick when Adam sinks his teeth into one of the tender spots he’s crafted on Shiro’s neck. As Adam licks at the spot like kissing it better, though, Shiro’s lungs startle back to life. Oxygen jolts into him, his hips knock into Adam’s of their own accord, and Shiro keens as Adam drives him back into the wall.

“I’ve thought about this all day, Takashi.” He writhes, curling his fingers in the waistband of Shiro’s jeans. “Thought about giving _you_ something nice. Y’know, the way that you deserve. Especially considering it is _your_ birthday…”

“God, please,” slips out of Shiro. He barely has enough time to kiss Adam’s forehead.

Adam’s on his knees in a flash, zeroing in on Shiro’s zipper. He caresses Shiro’s thighs as he eases down his jeans and boxer-briefs, massaging Shiro’s muscles as if genuinely seeking out any spots of tension so he can work them out. Once he gets Shiro’s jeans low enough that they drop on their own, Adam chuckles and _God_ , if Shiro slips up even slightly, that wicked sound could make him come _right now_.

If not for knowing that he was Adam’s first, Shiro wouldn’t believe that Adam was a blushing virgin only ten-and-a-half weeks ago. But he got caught up in a rush after they finished out last semester’s exams, and he wanted to be with Shiro, wanted to _feel_ Shiro in the ways he hadn’t yet, wanted to _know him_ , openly, intimately, and most of all, Biblically.

He’s been ravenous for Shiro since that night, but Shiro’s not complaining. Nor would he: Adam’s happy, or he’s seemed like it, and Shiro is rarely _not_ in the mood to fool around. He’s almost always ready for Adam to curl his long fingers around the base of Shiro’s shaft, kiss his cockhead with a snicker and a knowing smirk, and take him into his mouth — among several other things that they could do, besides.

There will be other times for other options, though. Right here, right now, Adam laps at Shiro’s skin and Shiro swallows a groan. So Adam knows that everything’s alright, Shiro ruffles his hair. Twines his fingers up in the thick, sandy blond strands, combing through them while Adam’s head bobs in time to nothing in particular. No, Shiro doesn’t find the right rhythm — doesn’t quite synch up with Adam, not while he’s fighting to keep his legs from giving out beneath him — but Adam doesn’t stop. If he minded, he’d slap Shiro’s leg or tap his hip, the way he does when they stick to screwing in somebody’s bed.

Tightening his lips around Shiro, Adam sucks like he could steal Shiro’s soul through his cock. Rocking his hips, Shiro quivers like a bowstring. Around him, Adam’s hot, slick mouth caresses his shaft, working Shiro up and down, making his throat ache from how much he’s holding back lest that. If Adam _did_ want to take his soul through this blow-job, Shiro might give it to him freely. There are far worse ways to go, worse ways to leave this world than letting your boyfriend have feel like he’s done a good job for your birthday.

No matter how much resolve Shiro summons, Adam tests him and keeps going. Languorous, teasing licks — all slow and easy like a humid Sunday morning — give away to fast, furious torment. To Adam’s fingers pumping and squeezing Shiro’s cock while he nearly chokes himself, trying to get Shiro as far into his mouth as he can without losing any time. Here and there, gasps come out of Shiro. Delirious, staccato bursts of, _“want,”_ and, _“need,”_ and, _“Oh God,_ ** _Adam_** _,”_ throbbing in Shiro’s chest, throbbing like his cock throbs, until they break free of their cages and claw their way into the night.

Gritting his teeth doesn’t help Shiro keep his breathing even. Doesn’t help him hold back on anything. Adam twists his hand around Shiro’s base. Coils and uncoils his tongue, dragging it all over Shiro’s skin with a throaty, longing moan that slams into the pit of his stomach. It shocks up to his chest. Vibrations from Adam’s sighing send tremors of lust everywhere, to all the deepest parts of Shiro’s being. He _could_ hang on for longer — he _knows_ he can — but when Adam’s teeth scrape along his shaft’s underside, Shiro’s mind goes white.

Slipping down the wall and hitting the pavement wasn’t on Shiro’s agenda for this evening. But as he fights to catch his breath, his knees refuse to keep him up. Adam inhales sharply. He leans over the mess of jeans and underwear around Shiro’s ankles, reaches over to brush his fingertips down Shiro’s cheek. Asking whether or not his boyfriend is okay… Yeah, that makes sense — but Adam calms down easily when Shiro gives him a little smile.

When Shiro nudges at his shoulder, Adam plops down opposite him and spreads his own legs expectantly.

Clambering over to Adam, Shiro tosses his rainbow scarf over his shoulder. Doesn’t bother with his jeans, though, because Adam’s are more important, at the moment. The cement makes him shiver, cold beneath his knees, his limp cock, and the bare skin of his thighs. But Shiro sprawls out on his stomach anyway. Makes quick work of getting Adam’s jeans and shorts out of the way. Doesn’t matter whose birthday it is; Adam’s waited long enough for his own turn at release. Besides, giving a good blow-job always makes Shiro happier than getting one.

For all Adam’s been a quick study of holding off an orgasm, he’s had more trouble with staying quiet. As soon as Shiro’s fingers twist around his hot, thick shaft, Adam gasps loudly enough that, no doubt, someone around here has heard him. He combs his fingers through Shiro’s hair as Shiro lips at his cock, but that physical sensation doesn’t anchor him. Not enough to keep Adam from sighing as his hips twitch, as he bucks into Shiro’s mouth. Still, longing writhes around Shiro’s chest when Adam pulls his hair. Adam might groan as if he’s ready to come over the slightest touch — over the quickest flick of Shiro’s tongue against his skin — but some piece of Shiro’s heart beats so much harder, ringing with the need to make sure Adam loves this.

On any other night, even with Adam going second, Shiro would drag this out for longer, would take more time with his strokes, lave up and down Adam’s shaft more slowly, and truly savor this process. But _Jesus_ , as Shiro works him over, Adam moans so loudly that they can probably hear him in the first-years’ barracks on the other end of campus. He’s ready to break off and tell Adam he can just let himself come — but Shiro would hate himself for that. He’d dig a full ditch of self-loathing by the time he makes it to the shower.

Instead, he cups his free hand around Adam’s inner thigh. He prefers touching Adam when he can see Adam’s legs more clearly — when he can really appreciate the wide swaths of smooth, brown skin and the hint of soft pudge that’s recently moved in over top of Adam’s muscles — but this isn’t about Shiro. Squeezing Adam’s thigh is about _Adam_ , about getting his attention. As soon as he whines — _“What, Takashi? Please? Hurry?”_ — Shiro drags his tongue around Adam’s cock with as much patience as he can muster. Jerks his hand up Adam’s shaft and nearly misses slapping into his own mouth. Adam whimpers, voice tight and legs squirming on either side of Shiro.

Inhaling deeply, Shiro angles his head _just so_. He lifts his eyes until his gaze meets Adam’s.

Shivering, Adam throws his head back. With a whimper of, _“Takashi,”_ and a wobbly, strangled noise, he spills in Shiro’s mouth. Hot and sticky, not the greatest taste, but Shiro swallows anyway. Makes the clean-up easier, and lets Shiro get to work on hiking Adam’s jeans back up for him.

Thankfully, Adam doesn’t grouse about this. He grumbles when Shiro gets himself redressed — _“Fine, Takashi,”_ he deadpans, meaning absolutely nothing, _“be that way, then._ ** _Don’t_** _let me enjoy your body. It’s fine”_ — but at least he’s back to being careful with the volume of his voice.

As they help each other off the cement, a door opens and slams shut again. Adam drags them up, half-carrying Shiro and slippin an arm around his waist, once they’re standing. Breath stuck in his throat, Shiro palms around pockets. Oh, God, they’re gonna get reported. They are going to get written up and stuck with demerits, at the very least. Even with Uncle Mitch’s permission card, they’re _definitely_ getting busted and there’s no way they can excuse trading blow-jobs in a mostly public place. Everything is terrible and they are utterly, _completely_ —

“Adam?” The voice calling is clear and serene, and a few meters ahead of them. “Shiro?”

His head snaps up as he whips out the permission card. Swallowing thickly, he salutes but doesn’t go to full attention. Despite having a greenish-gray jacket that’s similar to the ones that officers wear, Professor Lyda Montgomery isn’t among their ranks. She was an enlisted engineer and technician before becoming earning her title. Now, she has a smile in her voice as she crosses to Adam and Shiro, and she chuckles as she gives Shiro the, _“At ease.”_ These should be good signs. If nothing else, she’s in a decent mood and that’s probably a good thing.

Unfortunately, none of this makes any sense because there’s no way she should look so peaceful, considering how loud they were.

Adjusting her bag’s strap across her chest, Professor Montgomery looks from Shiro to Adam. “What are you two doing out so late?”

Adam squeezes Shiro’s hip and puts his head on Shiro’s shoulder. “His birthday, ma’am. We went into town. Met his brother for dinner.”

“We just got back.” Before she can ask, Shiro proffers Uncle Mitch’s permission card. “We were on our way to our dorms?”

Professor Montgomery barely seems to inspect the card before returning it. Oh, Lord. They’re _really_ in for it. She’s going to turn them in for lewd behavior, or rip them apart for being so wildly irresponsible, or otherwise rub their faces in how much they—

“Everything seems to be in order,” she chirps, far too energetically for this time of night. “You’d best get to bed soon, though. I know both of you have classes to teach, bright and early. Adam, if you could show up a bit earlier than usual? We’ll have an audiovisual component tomorrow, and you’re better than I am at making the projectors work.”

With that warning and request, she dismisses them. As Adam shepherds them toward their barracks, Shiro leans on him and heaves a sigh. This makes absolutely zero sense. None of it’s coming together. Why wouldn’t Professor Montgomery have reprimanded them like they _deserved_?

“You’re assuming that she heard us,” Adam points out, shoving his hand into Shiro’s back pocket. “Personally, I think she’s none the wiser, and more importantly?” He chuckles, copping a feel of Shiro’s ass, then hisses, “We have _got_ to try that again.”  


**Author's Note:**

> As ever, I’m also on Tumblr ([amorremanet](http://amorremanet.tumblr.com)) and Discord (amorremanet#5500), and I love my gay disaster Favorite, Takashi Shirogane, more than he loves _Star Trek_ and making questionable life choices.


End file.
